A Month of Living Slow: What Provence Taught Our Family
For more than twenty years, Provence has been my dream.
Not just a destination on a bucket list, but the destination. The one I promised myself I wouldn't rush. Throughout my career as a travel advisor, I had countless opportunities to visit France on quick educational trips. Every time, I said no.
People thought I was crazy.
I knew that Provence deserved more than four nights squeezed between hotel tours and site inspections. I wanted to experience it the way I encourage my own clients to experience meaningful travel, not by checking off attractions, but by living there. I wanted mornings without an agenda, afternoons that wandered, dinners cooked with ingredients from the local market, and enough time for a place to begin feeling like home.
Most importantly, I wanted to do it while our son, Grady still wanted to spend an entire month traveling with us before high school and all the activities that come with it.
This spring, after years of dreaming, planning, and saving, we finally made it happen.
Week One: Learning to Slow Down
There's something humbling about arriving somewhere completely new.
The first grocery store nearly did me in. The labels were all in French, I couldn't find half of what I was looking for, and I left wondering how something so ordinary could feel so overwhelming.
Thankfully, that was about the only stressful moment of the month.
Within just a few days, we found our rhythm.
Every morning seemed to bring a new village to explore. We'd wander cobblestone streets, browse local shops, and stop for lunch—always between noon and two, because that's when lunch happens in Provence. Miss the window, and you're likely waiting until dinner.
Evenings became my favorite part of the day.
Instead of constantly eating out, I cooked almost every night using fresh ingredients we'd gathered from village markets. We'd eat dinner together, swim, play games by the pool, and simply enjoy being together without the constant distractions of everyday life.
Brian quickly became an expert at navigating what felt like twenty roundabouts a day. Thank goodness for GPS.
Grady settled into his own French routine, averaging what I think was three chocolate croissants a day. Miraculously, McDonald's only happened a few times.
One surprising family consensus? The pasta in France might actually be better than the pasta we had in Italy.
We also welcomed my sister in law, Lauren for part of the week, explored beautiful local markets, enjoyed plenty of rosé, and spent an unforgettable afternoon learning to cook traditional French dishes alongside a local chef.
Week Two: Sharing Provence
One of the greatest joys of travel is sharing it with people you love.
Our friends, the Mallinger family joined us for several days, and the house immediately filled with laughter. The kids played endless rounds of UNO, spent hours in the pool, and created memories I know they'll talk about for years.
We introduced Katie to our favorite neighborhood market and the realities of grocery shopping in France on a Sunday. (If you've done it, you understand.) We visited a vineyard for her very first wine tasting and spent a beautiful day on the Mediterranean exploring near Marseille. Paddle boarding provided plenty of entertainment, especially watching Brian give it a try.
We also explored Avignon through a food tour. While the adults appreciated every bite, I think the kids officially reached their lifetime limit on French cheese by the end.
Once our friends headed home, life became quieter again.
Brian and Grady played several rounds of golf while I celebrated something equally exciting—I finally read another chapter of the book I'd started months earlier!
As the days passed, we naturally slowed down even more.
We slept later.
Read more.
Watched movies.
Cooked.
Played even more UNO and Mahjong than I could count.
Somewhere along the way, I realized how rarely we allow ourselves to simply exist without feeling guilty for doing so.
Week Three: Appreciating the Little Things
By our final week, Provence no longer felt unfamiliar. It felt like home.
The lavender fields had reached their peak, and everywhere we went the air carried the scent of lavender and jasmine. It was every bit as magical as I'd imagined all those years.
Brian and I visited one last market in L'Isle-sur-la-Sorgue in search of antique flatware. The crowds were overwhelming at first, so we returned the following morning when it was quieter.
That decision paid off. I found a beautiful set of 1920s Christofle silver flatware, exactly the kind of meaningful souvenir I had hoped to bring home. Something that will remind me of this month every time we set the table.
The boys enjoyed two more rounds of golf while I spent a wonderful afternoon shopping and having lunch with the owner of the house we rented.
One evening, after I'd happily cooked almost every night of the trip, we finally decided to eat out. Dinner at Beefbar in Gordes, overlooking the sunset, became one of those evenings we'll never forget.
We also made it to Aix-en-Provence for a three-hour pastry class where we learned to make éclairs from scratch.
Let's just say I'll happily continue buying éclairs from professionals.
The amount of work that goes into making one is incredible.
More Than a Vacation
People often ask me what my favorite part of Provence was. It was so much more than “just a vacation.”
It wasn't one village.
It wasn't one meal.
It wasn't even the lavender.
It was the pace.
For thirty days, our family remembered what it feels like to simply be together.
We lingered over lunches.
We cooked.
We played games.
We read books.
We wandered with no destination.
We talked.
As a travel advisor, I spend my days helping families plan incredible vacations. This trip reminded me why I love what I do. The most meaningful trips aren't always the ones where you see the most. They're the ones where you finally have enough time to slow down, connect with each other, and experience a destination instead of simply visiting it.
We saved for this trip for years. We dreamed about it for decades. And somehow, it exceeded every expectation.
Now people keep asking me what's next. The truth is... I'm not sure.
When you've carried one dream for over twenty years and finally lived it, it takes a little while to decide what the next dream should be.
One thing I know for certain is this: We'll continue making room for slow travel, for meaningful experiences, and for saying "yes" to the kinds of adventures that stay with you long after you've unpacked your suitcase.
